Things You Don't Want To Know
by Reichenbach
Summary: FINISHED! FINALLY. Buffy xover After seeing her sister sacrifice herself to save the universe, Dawn Summers begins searching for her father and ends up getting unwanted help from the youngest member of the Bat Clan.
1. Intro

Rating: PG 13 (Some language, MUCH later on). Author: Moi Summary: After seeing her sister sacrifice herself to save the universe, Dawn Summers begins searching for her father and ends up getting unwanted help from the youngest member of the Bat Clan.  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own either set of characters. They're owned by Joss and DC respectively, who're in turn owned by AOL because AOL has really taken over the world and we just don't know it yet. Today it's your browser, dude. Tomorrow its your MIND.  
  
Things You Don't Want to Know  
Introduction   
**  
  
Restlessly, Tim Drake kicked the sheets off of his legs and rolled out of bed. Crossing his bedroom in the blue haze of pre-sunrise, he turned his computer monitor on and connected to the internet. He'd gotten home a few hours ago, but he was still too wired from the night's adventures to rest. There was something about having your head in Killer Crock's mouth that precluded sleep.  
  
While he waited for screens to load, he ran a hand through his hair and yawned, looking around at the piles of dirty clothes. He grabbed the chest area of the Superman t-shirt he was wearing and lifted it to his nose, noting that it needed to be washed today as well. It smelled like. well, like he'd been drooled on by Killer Crock, mixed with the slightest tinge of sewer water.  
  
It wasn't easy being the sidekick sometimes.  
  
His messenger service logged on a few seconds later, and he was surprised to see a familiar name online. In fact, it was the only name on at this really late (or really early) hour. Double clicking on the name to send a message, he ventured a guess that it was just really late, since he knew his favorite chat buddy lived on the west coast.  
  
/VerticallyChallenged57: Hey. Up past bedtime? /  
  
He might be able to dash down the hall and into the shower without his dad or step mom hearing. Things had been strained with his father for the last few years, and he tried not to rock the boat if he could help it. Dashing off to the bathroom before the sun was up smelling like lizard spit and sewage was certainly one of those things that'd make his father reconsider military school.  
  
Dick didn't have these problems when he was Robin, he was certain.  
  
Just when he was beginning to think she'd accidentally left the computer on and went to bed, he got a response.  
  
/CupieDollDawn: You'll never guess where i am./  
  
/VerticallyChallenged57: PLEASE tell me it's not the cemetery again./  
  
Tim shook his head. His friends were so weird. Cupie's idea of a cool time was taking her sister's friend's laptop to the cemetery and chatting from a crypt. Of course, this was coming from the guy who'd spent the entire previous night knee-deep in sewage.  
  
He took another whiff of his shirt. Alfred hadn't been happy when he'd gone trouncing into the cave at two in the morning, wet and dripping on the cave floor. He really should have taken a shower before he'd come home, then burned his clothing. Even if he had been running way late, and wanted to make it home before dad's 2:30 midnight snack and inevitable check on Tim time.  
  
There was also that 'avoid Batman' aspect that he'd really not wanted to get into with Alfie. He'd save that for another day.  
  
/CupieDollDawn: Chicago. Internet Cafe /  
  
/VerticallyChallenged57: No way. /  
  
/CupieDollDawn: Way. / /CupieDollDawn: Got sik of everything and just took off./  
  
/VerticallyChallenged57: I can relate and stuff. Still. does your sister know where you're at?/  
  
/CupieDollDawn: She's dead./  
  
/VerticallyChallenged: What?/  
  
He just couldn't believe that. Not because it sounded like a lie, but. it was beyond unfair. It was not even a few months ago that her mother had died. Holy shitty life. He knew people lied online, he knew they lied in chat rooms and stuff-but he'd talked to her for almost a year. All the stuff sounded too familiar-too close to his own life.a superior older sibling, a delinquent dad. then a dead mom.  
  
Tim ran a hand through his hair, waiting for an answer. He came online and went in chat rooms to get away from real life, and his life was crazy. Why couldn't he vicariously experience a normal life through an online buddy?  
  
/CupieDollDawn: Long story. funeral was friday. dad didn't even come or anything. just pretended like we never called. I hate him./  
  
/VerticallyChallenged57: Wow. And you just took off?/  
  
/CupieDollDawn: Yeah. couldnt stand sitting around an dbeinng in that house any more. Everything's just too stupid. i'm at an internet café and my time's almost up. Will you be on tonight?/  
  
/VerticallyChallenged57: Where're you staying?/  
  
/CupieDollDawn: has disconnected./  
  
Slapping the top of the desk in frustration, Tim spun around in his chair and looked at the clock. It was 6:15 in the morning, 5:15 Chicago time. Cupie had been there all night. Chances are she'd found it cheaper to surf the Internet than find a place to sleep.  
  
He should just let it rest. But he couldn't. Not when his 'protect the innocent' instinct had just kicked in. He couldn't let a girl who had just lost everything, a girl who was a whole year younger than he was; wander around some foreign city all alone.  
  
Grabbing clean clothes, he stealthily dashed out his door and down the hall, preparing for the shortest shower of his young life.  
  
Continued in Chapter 1  
  
  
  
More later kids, I promise. 


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimers in Introduction.  
  
Things You Really Don't Want To Know Chapter 1 **  
  
The wind whipped past Timothy Drake's ears and pressed his hair flat against the left side of his head as he sped as comfortably as possible through mid-morning highway traffic. The dashboard beeped once, and he knew he was about to get it. His only surprise was that it was happening this early. "And you'd be in Chicago. BECAUSE?"  
  
Tim turned his attention from the road to the radio on his dashboard, which was currently berating him. "Young Justice business," he said with confidence.  
  
"Young Justice called Batman, looking for you to come out and play this morning," Oracle informed him knowingly.  
  
Tim winced, turning off Lake Shore Drive, heading toward down town. He was such a horrible liar. "Look, I got some stuff to take care of. I don't know how long it's going to take, and I don't expect you to cover with my dad or Bruce or anyone, ok? Just don't go blabbing about where I am."  
  
"Tim," said Barbara's voice, suddenly switching over from Oracle's mechanical tones. "Is something wrong? I mean. in Gotham?"  
  
The young man rolled his eyes, not even wanting to go into his newest beef with Bruce. "Everything's fine, Den Mother Oracle. I just need to take care of some. personal stuff." He pulled the Red Bird into a parking garage and began searching for a space. The guy said there was one spot left. too bad it couldn't be some place near the entrance.  
  
"If this is about Batman."  
  
"I know we're all having a hard time with him right now," Tim sighed.  
  
"Cause you know you can always talk to me."  
  
And say what? Tim thought as he reached into the top level. I'm chasing after some girl I met on the internet cause Bruce told MY girlfriend my name? Do you know how lame and bizarre that sounds? "Babs, I'm FINE," he promised. "Can't you go nag someone else for a little bit?"  
  
And how screwed up was it that his girlfriend hadn't even known his name? Chasing some girl from the Internet sounded normal, compared to that.  
  
"Fine," Barbara responded. "Just check in every once in a while, ok?"  
  
* * *  
  
There was a girl sitting on a bench between two potted bushes in front of the Internet café, she had long, straight hair, long eyelashes, a button nose and two large, pink lips. Tim blinked, trying not to think about that. So she was cute? She was like. a whole year younger. And he was still. he didn't know if he was attached per say. But. well, he shouldn't be looking.  
  
He stopped in the middle of the busy street, tourists and other pedestrians pushing around him like water flowing out of a damn. Thinking up some logical reason for being there, some explanation, he watched her counting change for a moment as she tore open a package of individually wrapped saltines and began eating.  
  
Finally, he gathered the courage to approach. "Dawn?" he asked.  
  
Hesitantly, her eyes rose. There was a certain amount of innocence in them, but it was tempered by too much tragedy. It was visible and almost quantitative, the way her brow arched inward, even as her eyes seemed to grow more round. Even Bruce, as cold as he was, would find it difficult to doubt eyes like that.  
  
"It's ok. You know me. It's uh. me. Vertically Challenged." Tim held out a hand.  
  
Licking her lips, she reached out and shook it. Her grip was so light. "Uh. hi."  
  
He needed an explanation. NOW. The girl was afraid of him. "So. um. I kinda hacked your ISP to get your billing information from your home service, then I hacked into your school system to get a picture. And um. this is the third Internet café I've tried." He gave a shy smile. "I promise I'm not a crazy stalker person. I just thought you sounded like you needed a friend."  
  
The two stared at each other, thinking. He wondered if she was buying it. She wondered if this was really happening. It wasn't how she pictured running away to be.  
  
"And you did all THAT, to find ME?" She blinked twice, trying to comprehend it. "WOW." None of her sister's friends had come after her so far. They were all probably glad she was gone. They didn't want to be saddled with her-the same as her dad didn't want to come back for her. That's why she was there-to find her dad, and just get an answer. That's all she wanted to know-why he didn't want her. Then she could go crawl into a hole somewhere and cease existing.  
  
Tim sat down beside her, watching the people pass. "Well, I just. you know." Was he blushing? "Anyways. I kind of know how it is, to be. 'in between,' you know? My mom died, and my dad was sick, and no one knew WHERE I'd end up." He couldn't imagine losing two people so close together, but he knew how it felt to be. deposed.  
  
They sat in awkward silence for a moment, and then he finally put an arm around her. "I just. want you to have someone." And he wanted to make sure she didn't get into any trouble while she was grieving-he could think up a thousand horrible things that could happen to a small town girl in the big city all alone. His conscience couldn't let her be there by herself. "And. um. by the way. my name is Tim."  
  
Her face turned towards him, and her eyes met his. "Thanks. You didn't have to. You know. Come all the way here."  
  
Boy, were her eyes blue, he thought. "It's cool. It's nice to get out of Gotham for a while. The weather's nice here."  
  
"Did you come for the weather, or for me?"  
  
Tim wondered if he'd said something wrong. "For you. I was worried about you." Wasn't it obvious? He'd broken. well, a BUNCH of laws finding out who she was, and he'd driven all the way out here-which he technically couldn't do on his junior license.  
  
"You shouldn't worry," she said, turning away from him. "I wish. everyone'd stop caring." Actually, she wished certain people hadn't cared so much-then they wouldn't have ended up dead. She wished some people cared more, this way they'd pretend like they loved her. And the people at home? She wished they'd stop caring about her sister enough to realize she was gone. Mostly. she just wanted Buffy back.  
  
Tim searched for words of comfort, but couldn't find them. "Dawn. I know you don't know me in real life or anything. but I do care."  
  
"You're right," she said, wiping her eyes and nose on a fast food napkin. "I don't know you. and this is creepy. Ok? I appreciate it and stuff. but it's creepy."  
  
Yeah, Tim thought. It was creepy. He admitted it. And had he not been in a position to hack and then cross state lines, he'd have probably just sat at home and moped about his computer friend who was having a bum rap. "Ok. I'm not a crazy stalker person. but I." He caught sight of something moving across the street. Something dangerous and leering. And its attention was focused on them. "Dawn. you came here alone?"  
  
"Yeah, I came here alone," she snipped back. "Everyone forgot I exist when she died. And you know what, they're probably happy I'm gone."  
  
"Why would they be happy you're gone?" It sounded like Dawn had some people at home who're probably really worried about her, which wasn't good. More pressing, however, was the figure pacing in the shadows behind the front window of that store. The figure that was now staring right at him.  
  
"Maybe because they hate me. Maybe because they wish I were dead too. Maybe because they're sick of looking at someone who reminds them why my sister's dead!" She folded her arms over her chest, pressed her chin against her collar bone, and cried.  
  
Dawn had told VerticallyChallenged a lot of things. She'd told him about how everyone thought her sister was great, and she was just some third wheel. How her sister was the greatest thing since sliced bread, and she couldn't even hand her homework in on time. How all of her sister's friends fell apart when her mom died, and she was somehow supposed to be 'normal girl'. She left out all the stuff about vampires, trying to raise her mom from the dead, and Buffy being a superhero. You had to do that when your sister had a secret identity.  
  
Now she'd just gone and blabbed something even more personal then telling him in detail how Willow and Tara had just sat on the sofa and held each other all night, trying to find some reason in her mother's death, or telling about how she'd snuck out the window of the guidance counselor's office when she'd been dragged in there to talk about how her mother's death had been affecting her.  
  
As long as she didn't have to look him in the eye, it was just like chatting.  
  
"Dawn, sometimes people get really messed up by grief," he said knowingly. "Friend of mine. his kid died, and he just went nuts. He didn't act like he cared about anyone for a long time. Maybe you should give your sister's friends a call." Batman had been more than messed up when Jason died. He didn't know if she understood that everyone handled, or didn't handle it in their own way. It seemed maybe too foreign of an assessment, compared to the brief yet painful neglect she was feeling now.  
  
"Maybe you should mind your own business!" she slid to the edge of the bench, grabbing hold of the iron armrest and twisting her hand around it anxiously.  
  
It moved again. It was glaring at Tim ferociously. "Dawn, SOMEONE must care about you one way or another, because they're over there, watching you."  
  
"WHERE?" she asked, disbelief evident in her voice. Willow or Giles would have just confronted her by now. No-they would have never let her leave Sunnydale.  
  
"Over there-in the front of that store. He is sticking to the shadows, and he never comes close enough to the windows so I can see him. Either someone IS here for you. or you're in trouble." Trouble was something Tim could deal with. He had NO idea why he was here-but if this could give him some purpose for being, he'd take it.  
  
"He? He's staying in the shadows?"  
  
"I think it's a male. Dawn. if you tell me what's up, maybe I can help."  
  
The afternoon sun had thrown a shadow over them in the last few minutes. Dawn leapt to her feet, out of the darkness left by the potted bush, as if that would save her.  
  
"Dawn, what's up? I can only help if you start talking to me." From what she'd been saying, it sounded like her sister had been murdered. Whoever it was might be after her, too. What kind of trouble could an innocent looking girl get into in Nowheresville, CA?  
  
"Yeah, right. You can help." She squinted at the barely distinguishable shape. "You've got some seriously good eyesight or something. So is it some creepy guy? Or is he kind of. I don't know. Less creepy. With blonde hair? Bottle job?"  
  
"I don't know," Tim admitted. "Just a tall, male type shape. Wanna go over and see what it's about?"  
  
Dawn hesitated. What if it was an evil vamp? It could just be Spike-he was a crazy stalker type like that. But what if it was someone else, who knew Buffy was dead, and was coming for her? Then again-who knew she existed? "Yeah, lets go see what lame excuse Spike has." He was probably just pretending he was stalking Buffy by stalking her.  
  
"Spike?" Tim asked as he followed her. She'd suddenly leapt from her seat and had dashed across the stopped traffic, righteous indignation putting bounce in her step. The cars started up again, and Tim made haste to the sidewalk before he was run over. City traffic was unforgiving EVERYWHERE, he supposed.  
  
Just as Dawn dove for the revolving glass door, Tim saw the figure pull back into the shadows. If he didn't have so much experience looking for people who were good at disappearing, he'd be stumped. He came out of the revolving door behind her, right into the air-conditioned lobby of the store.  
  
"Where'd he go? That creep." Dawn glanced around quickly, sort of at a loss in the huge toy store.  
  
"Look, the entire store is laid out in a circular fashion. If he went in one direction, he's going to have to back around here. I say you start over at the Barbie section, since that's the last direction he'd head in. I'll take the escalator, to make sure he didn't go up."  
  
"You're really good at this hunt and kill stuff," she said jokingly.  
  
Tim smiled, stepping on the escalator just beyond the front door. "Not hunt and kill," he promised. "Seek and destroy. Your friend's name is Spike?" she nodded. "Ok. I'll see if I can find." he trailed off as the first floor vanished from sight.  
  
Tim vaguely remembered Spike from his talks with Dawn. He must have been the 'scary Goth freak-tard guy' (who'd been, to this point, unnamed) who was always chasing after her sister. Hopefully, he could find Spike and explain that he should stop watching Dawn from a distance, and show her some TLC. That was. if he wasn't intent on being a malicious scary Goth guy. Tim had seen enough of the world to know he'd better watch out for whoever this "Spike" was, or thought he was.  
  
His eyes briefly wandered over the action figures and spaceship models. He could ogle later. Besides. Dick had opened the last action figure he'd bought, destroying the mint packaging. Why? Because Nightwing could just be evil like that. 'Why buy it, if you're not going to play with it, Timmy?' He loved Dick Grayson like a brother, and hated him like one too, sometimes. That was how Dawn must have felt about her overly "skilled" sister-jealous and in awe, annoyed and grateful, all at once. No wonder she seemed so angry that her sister was gone.  
  
He wound past the action figures and into the novelty statues, making a quick glance behind him to see if anyone was hiding amongst the displays.  
  
Briefly, Tim wondered if he could put his action figures in an electrified case, to keep Dick's slimy paws off of them. Dawn was right. Sometimes adults who'd only been teenagers yesterday, really lost their perspective on stuff. That was probably why she was having a rough time at home. Everyone there was her sister's age or older.  
  
See? Tim told himself as he searched the oversized toddler toys. There was a reason for him to be here. He was somebody her age that could relate to her.  
  
So why did he keep feeling like a 'crazy stalker person'?  
  
There was a swirl of something. cape-like behind the electronic toys. Tim immediately followed the hint of brown terry cloth past the yapping robotic dogs and past the display of flight simulators. For a split second cataloging in his head the three that he didn't already own, he turned around behind the display, realized his quarry had vanished.  
  
He'd had Obi-Wan, and then the figure had disappeared. He'd been trained to not let prey get away, but somehow this guy had-  
  
"I wanna know what business you got with Lil' Bit."  
  
Reflexively, Tim spun and dropped into a defensive position. The man behind him was wearing a long brown hooded cloak and looked like he belonged out on the Tatooine sand dunes, not in a toy store. Looking up at the man, he noticed the pasty, gaunt face and the bleach blonde hair, formerly mentioned by Dawn.  
  
"I'm her friend."  
  
"She doesn't HAVE any friends," the British voice snapped flippantly.  
  
Did anyone ever think that might be part of the problem? "Lemme guess, you're the guy who stalks her sister."  
  
Long, thin hands reached up and yanked the hood off of his head. Pale eyes scowled down at the young man. "I'm not a stalker. Who do you think YOU are, anyways?"  
  
Tim bit his cheeks, then looked around him. A toy store in the tourist trap end of town was not the place to be having this discussion. In broad daylight even.  
  
Spike didn't like the kid's lack of response so he shoved him a little, into the back of the display. "You should just stay away from her, you bloody little wanker." He could hear the approach of a sales representative. Quickly, he pulled the boy from behind the display. "I'm watching her. And you."  
  
"I think she's just looking for her dad. She doesn't have anybody." The boy tore the man's hand off of his shirt, caught between Robin's no-nonsense attitude, and Tim Drake's non-confrontational demeanor. "You COULD help her look."  
  
Spike stared down at him with barely controlled anger. "She doesn't WANT to find her dad. Trust me."  
  
"How do you know what she--"  
  
"What I'm saying is she won't like what she finds." Looking once at the young lady approaching to see what the ruckus was about, he pushed the boy out of his way and stealthily lost himself among the displays.  
  
As briskly as possible, Tim also fled to the first floor, and the Barbie displays. He plucked Dawn out of the life sized doll clothes and began pulling her towards the door. "Gotta go," he said briskly.  
  
She looked around, searching for her sister's friend. "Spike caused a scene?"  
  
"Uh huh," Tim muttered as two managers came down the escalator, preparing to give them a hard time. Once outside, they lost themselves in the ocean of people. Waiting a block, he stopped, pulling her towards the sandstone edifice of another retail establishment. "Sorry about that. I just really DON'T need my carbon-based parental unit getting a call about how I was causing a scene and knocking over displays at a toy store in CHICAGO."  
  
"I feel your pain," Dawn replied, tossing her long, straight hair over her shoulder, and stealing a glance behind her. "Your dad's still on the war path?"  
  
Tim sighed. "Beyond war path. I go missing one more time, its military school. in Alaska." Ok, so maybe Tim didn't have the greatest home life either. "Anyways. now that we've escaped the evil clutches of the sales staff. mind filling me in? That Spike guy is beyond creep."  
  
"I thought he was kind of my friend. But if he was my friend, and he wasn't just a Buffy-stalker, he'd have stopped me from leaving, or helped me when I asked him. or something."  
  
Tim resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a tough one to handle as himself. Robin was much more suited to the task. "Ok. I guess it's up to you. what you want to do. We can find him again, and hash that out, or we can find your dad."  
  
"Find my dad," Dawn said immediately. "I need somebody-An adult to take care of me. I mean. I don't want to end up in like a foster home or something."  
  
Tim nodded in complete understanding, then began constructing a string of lies, half-truths and elaborate excuses for all points along the way: his father, and his current 'AWOL' status, Oracle, and why he needed information, and Dawn, where he was getting it from and how. "I'll do some voodoo hacking stuff, and see if I can find him. if you're really sure he's in Chicago. And. I need to eat something, I don't know about you."  
  
Continued in Chapter 2 


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimers in Introduction  
  
Things You Don't Want to Know  
  
Chapter 2  
  
**  
  
Tim watched Dawn walk into the fast food joint. He'd handed her all the crumpled bills in his pocket and told her to surprise him. He'd specifically picked the storefront with the longest lines, just so he'd have some time to do a few things. As soon as the door closed behind her, he began dialing. His roaming fees were going to kill him this month, he just knew it.  
  
The cars on the street chirped and gurgled, their horns and engines protesting afternoon traffic. In his ear, the phone rhythmically rang twice. "Barb, I need you to run some things for me," he began as soon as the line picked up.  
  
"You are the deadest little dude in the whole universe, you know that, pal?"  
  
A wince suddenly contorted the young man's face. "You're not Barbara."  
  
Dick laughed. "Perceptive little fellow, isn't he? Babs had to head off an APB with your name on it."  
  
"Aww, crap," Tim grumbled, smacking his forehead. "I guess I'm kinda AWOL again, aren't I?"  
  
"Give the kid a gold star. Babs is rerouting your dad's beleaguered and angry calls as we speak."  
  
"Thank her for me, and tell her how incredible stupid and sorry I am. Look, here's what I need someone to do. I need a search on a 'Hank Summers,' late of Chicago, formerly of California. I don't know if Hank is short for something else, or what. She didn't seem to indicate that it was."  
  
There came another ringing round of Dick Grayson's laughter. "There's a girl involved. There's ALWAYS a girl involved. What's up?"  
  
"Nothing. I'm just trying to help someone track down her dad. She's going through a rough time, and I just want to help her out. I want to get her some place safe before this weirdo I met today comes after her again. While you're working on that, do a search on Dawn Summers and Buffy Summers, Sunnydale California, and any underworld connections on a guy named Spike. Probably an alias. No last name." He saw Dawn get to the register and begin ordering. "I don't have a lot of time. Just call me back when you have something."  
  
There was a labored sigh on the other end. "Tim, you don't get it. You have to come home. You're dead. You're busted."  
  
"The sooner you help me find Dawn's dad, the sooner I'll come home."  
  
There was much grumbling to be had on the other end of the line. "It's so not good to get mixed up with messed-up chicks, ok? I'm telling you this as your substitute brother-figure, and as a guy who's gotten mixed up with messed-up chicks, ok?"  
  
"I appreciate it, really, but I just gotta follow this through. Ok?" Something continued to nag at the back of his mind. "And. see if this Hank guy is connected to anything shady. I don't know what's going on, but that Spike guy said she didn't want to find her dad."  
  
"I did NOT want to spend my only day off watching my girlfriend do bookwork for you, Timmy."  
  
"I'll buy you pizza or something. Just. this is bugging me now, ok? Dawn said Buffy died, and they called her dad, and her dad wouldn't even come back for the funeral, or to like take custody of her or anything. I have to go. She's coming out with our food." He shut the phone off before Dick could protest.  
  
Dawn gave a weak smile as she hoisted aloft the over-full brown bag of food. "Chicken sandwiches?"  
  
"Sounds good. Lets find a place to sit down." He was sure anything would be fine at this point. "I called a friend who'll help. In the mean time, we can try looking him up on-line at the library. So that number you had. you called before the funeral, and it was good, and after the funeral, it was disconnected?"  
  
The girl nodded and continued keeping pace with him. "You really don't have to. I mean. thanks. This is really weird."  
  
"You keep saying that."  
  
A pained look spread across her face. "It's really weird."  
  
Tim gave her an encouraging smile as he found a thick-edged wall holding back rows of planters. Hopping onto it, he took the bag and let her do the same.  
  
* * *  
  
"He's giving his dad a heart attack over a GIRL?" Barbara Gordon spat, turning away from her computer terminals. Wheeling herself towards the living room area, she took the cordless phone from Dick and hung it back on the charger. "I'm spending my Saturday saving his butt, because of a GIRL."  
  
Dick shrugged. "I don't know. Guys do that." He ran a hand through his thick dark hair. Pulling a lock straight in front of his forehead, he noted how greasy it was. "It's genetic."  
  
Barbara resisted the urge to smack him. "Did you explain to Boy Blunder that he won't be sidekicking for ANYONE in Juneau Alaska?"  
  
"I tried! Geeze. Look. lets just find the info Timmy wants, then we can catch the later movie." He handed Barbara the notepad he'd written the details Tim had given him on.  
  
"Why don't we just download the pirated copy?" Barbara asked with disgust. "Sunnydale?" Putting the tablet on her lap, she wheeled herself back to the computer. "Most of my nearly successful hacks come from a So-Cal ISP. There's some little geek out there that has made a four-year hobby out of trying to access my system. Maybe we should try returning the favor." NO ONE got into Oracle's databases that she didn't want to be there. Some school kid from across the country was little challenge to keep out. So little of a challenge, that she never took much of an interest in the nuisance, other than to make a note of the locations of the hacks.  
  
Dick flopped down on the sofa, wondering why Tim had to ruin his weekend. Grabbing the rainbow colored Slinky off the coffee table, he began making it walk across his chest. "We can always get Gar or somebody to find the kid and beat 'em up," Dick said with humor, trying to take her mind off the situation. "This is just Timmy spazing out. I can't see anything coming out of this."  
  
"Oh yeah?" Barbara said, turning the monitor so he could see. "Every hack from the last. five months has come from either this business, or this home address. Consequently, this home address matches this Dawn Summers' home address."  
  
Dick sat up suddenly, the Slinky snapping closed. "Is this a set-up?" he asked cautiously.  
  
Barbara's fingers began flying across the keyboard. "I don't know. Could be this kid knows more than she lets on. Her acquaintanceship with Tim could be trouble."  
  
Sitting up, Dick dumped the Slinky back onto the coffee table. It came to a rest with the slap of plastic, then fell still. "Fine. Download the movie. We'll watch it when I get back."  
  
Continued in Chapter 3 


	4. Chapter Three

FB: All feedback welcome, including critical FB.  
  
Disclaimers: See Intro  
  
Authors Note: This is my first x-over. Lets see how it turns out ;)  
  
Things You Don't Want to Know Chapter 3 **  
  
The library seemed to hum with the clacking of heels and whispers magnifying throughout the cavity off of the high-vaulted ceilings and smooth white walls. It all became non-existent background clatter to one figure at the far end of the main floor, his brow creased in obvious concentration as he pecked away furiously at the keyboard beneath his fingertips.  
  
Tim stood at one of the high counters containing computers. The lack of chairs was supposed to prevent long surfing times, but he'd been there for twenty minutes, and hadn't yet been kicked off, or deterred. He'd had to hack his way out of the library system's restrictions, then connect to Oracle's computer. It hadn't been easy, or fun.  
  
A message popped up in the corner of the screen.  
  
/O: Are you alone? /  
  
Tim looked around. He'd specifically picked a bank of computers in the back of the room, with his back to the wall. He didn't see Dawn around; she'd taken a bathroom break a few minutes prior.  
  
/R: I'm alone. Do you have something for me? Have I mentioned how big of a jerk I am, and how grateful I am for you bailing me out? /  
  
/O: NW is on his way. Do nothing until he gets there. Your friend isn't what she appears. Someone at her address has been hacking me for at least five months. Probably the last four years. You may be compromised. /  
  
/R: You're kidding me, right? /  
  
/O: I don't joke about hacks. Proceed with extreme caution. /  
  
/R: She's just a kid. /  
  
/O: You're just a kid. /  
  
/R: I'm going to help her./  
  
/O: I'll make this simple-you don't proceed with caution, I call your Bat. /  
  
/R: Fine. Caution. But I want to help her./  
  
/O: You have a heart of gold. Don't let it be a tragic flaw. /  
  
The pop-up window disappeared and Tim sighed. Life couldn't ever be simple, could it? Every time he turned around, something was becoming more complicated somewhere. How could sweet Dawn be a hacker? She was nice, she was shy, she was unsure of herself, she was cute..  
  
And she was probably only being his friend because she knew, and she was trying to get closer to him.  
  
But what about all the stuff that had happened? What about her dad? They were entrenched in this situation involving her father-that much was real, he was certain. Otherwise that Spike person wouldn't be so protective, nor would he be so insistent that Dawn stay away from her dad.  
  
Robin could have probably decimated this case a lot of quicker than Tim, but he'd have to live with Tim's limitation of resources, and the necessity of the preservation of his secret identity. It was an obvious drawback, but Tim had gotten himself involved in Dawn's life, not Robin.  
  
He began typing again, searching for a police report, coroner report, funeral home records. anything. The more he searched, the less he found, as if it had all been a lie. Congratulations, Tim, he thought to himself. You've been had. And now you're in trouble.  
  
But then he found billing records for a tomb stone with the name of a Buffy Summers engraved upon it, in addition to some strange message about her saving the world-a lot, and it only made things more confusing. The bill had been sent to a Rupert Giles, who'd been fired a few years back from the school Buffy had attended.  
  
"How's that helping you find my dad?" Dawn asked angrily.  
  
"Geeze, you're a cat when you want to be, you know that?" Actually, he'd been far too engrossed in trying to put the pieces of this mystery together. But he'd never admit his training had failed, that someone had gotten behind him. It had happened twice in one day, and he had sworn to attribute it to something in the Chicago air.  
  
"Maybe you don't want to help me find my dad. Maybe you're stalking me."  
  
When he turned to look at her, with her red eyes and nose, he wanted to lose his resolve. She was too damned. nice for all this garbage. Whatever this garbage was. "I don't know. I was just looking for anything. Why's there no death record for your sister?" Direct confrontation seemed the best rout for now. It seemed the least painful for all involved. "Why did this Rupert Giles randomly purchase a coffin and tombstone for her. if there's no paper trail? Child protective services should have--"  
  
"Shut up," Dawn ordered angrily. "You don't know what's going on. You don't know how messed up things are."  
  
"Then tell me."  
  
"You wouldn't understand."  
  
"Try me." It was really the only way to diffuse the situation before Dick got there, Tim decided.  
  
"You kids are going to have to take this outside," an elderly woman informed them harshly. She was shorter than both of them, but she was wide, and her blue hair and steely gaze made her frightening. She tugged on her vest in indignation, somehow implying with that gesture that she WOULD call security if they didn't leave. Tim wasn't having a good day.  
  
"I hate you," Dawn whispered harshly, stalking past him.  
  
He looked at the lady apologetically, then filed out behind her.  
  
"Dawn." he called after her in his quietest stage-whisper.  
  
She pushed with sudden force against the revolving glass door leading to the street, her head locked forward, refusing to hear his desperate apology.  
  
Tim reached out a hand to her, even as he skidded into the door in the compartment directly behind her. "Dawn." he called through the glass. "I was trying to help."  
  
.Continued in Chapter Four 


	5. Chapter Four

Sorry for so long between chapters. Having some killer back problems. Killer-killer.  
  
Disclaimers, ratings, etc in chapter 1. feedback in all shapes and sizes welcome.  
  
Things You Don't Want to Know  
  
Chapter 4  
  
**  
  
"Great!" Dawn yelled when they were outside on the sidewalk. Her lank figure stopped abruptly, thin arms folding over her small chest. One Ked- clad foot stomped against the sidewalk. "NOW how are we going to find my dad! You got us kicked out of the library!"  
  
"Dawn, I'm TRYING to help. But you have to help me help you! I don't understand what happened to your sister. I don't understand why the things I've seen don't make sense."  
  
Dawn bit her lips together for a moment, a tear leaking out of her eye. Finally she sniffed, and then spoke, her lower lip trembling. "What kind of dad doesn't come when you call him? What kind of sister dies for you, when she's the important one and you're not? And what kind of guy hacks up all this information about me, and then comes all the way out here like some kind of scary stalker?"  
  
Tim shook his head, prepared to one up her. "What kind of girl has some bleach blond skank trying to protect her, but won't take care of her when she's obviously in need of someone? Dawn, I don't know WHAT is going on, ok? But I AM going to find out, one way or another. It might go easier and quicker if you just fess up."  
  
Dawn's wide, angry eyes bored into his. "I can't tell you," she said with quiet, firm resistance. Late afternoon commuters pushed past them. In frustration, Tim grabbed her arm and pulled her across the street, then into an alley that looked nasty and smelled a thousand times worse. They stayed just far enough in to be out of the Saturday rush.  
  
The young man sighed, at the end of his rope. "Look-some friends of mine aren't too happy that someone from your home address has been trying to hack their system. I'm getting a little suspicious. Do me a favor and start with the free exchange of information, or I'm going to start drawing some obvious conclusions-namely that we didn't meet on accident in a chat room. I'm going to assume that this is a setup, and that I'm in danger. So you'd better start talking."  
  
"I'm not hacking your friend," Dawn answered in frustration. "I don't even have my own computer. I have to share Willows laptop--" Her eyes snapped wider. "Willow wouldn't-ok, she would, ok? But she only hacks when it's important."  
  
Tim tried to hide his relief. He'd gotten her angry enough to start talking. Bruce liked to just hold people over ledges-he said it was less time consuming. This was something he'd learned from Dick. Not only had Dick been right about girls being trouble, but also he'd been right about how to get them to talk. Sometimes he hated when Dick was right. Most of the time he hated it, if he was truthful with himself. "Ok. We're getting somewhere. Who's Willow, and what business does she have hacking?"  
  
"I thought you were going to help me find my dad," she snapped back, folding her thin arms over her chest. "This isn't helping me find my dad. Willow helps people."  
  
He almost told her that hacking wasn't helping, then he remembered how he obtained her personal information. "Look, I just need to know anything that can help. Believe it or not, this might be important information."  
  
"Who died and left YOU Sherlock Holmes?"  
  
"There're three people who have to die before I get the job," he grumbled smartly. "But I hold my own. Look, if I have all the information available, it'd probably only take me fifteen minutes to track your dad down. But right now all I have is a name, and the information that he doesn't want to be found. I'll be honest. That Spike guy told me that you don't want to find him. Which tells me something bad is going on. We probably only have an hour before someone from Gotham gets here to try and sort this out, so I suggest we start working together, otherwise this search is going to be over before it starts. Once these guys start raining on a parade, it's a monsoon." Tim leaned heavily against the dirty brick wall behind him. This was turning out to be an interesting Saturday, to say the least. Once Dick showed up. it was over. He'd probably pull Tim out of the situation and who knew what would happen after that.  
  
The girl began pacing back and forth. "Oh my God, you just don't give up, you know that?" There was a touch of hysteria in Dawn's voice. She wanted to find her father, but she didn't want to go through the grilling, Tim suspected.  
  
"Thanks," he said deviously. This was the part of him that his Young Justice friends hated with a passion. "Look, I don't care what it is. I don't care what your family is involved in-guns, drugs, whatever." He did care, but probably not in the way she thought. "Just tell me what's up."  
  
"How's about the occult?" Dawn questioned obstinately.  
  
Tim suspected she was trying to shock him. "You're going to have to do better than that." Not when he knew that the Rupert Giles guy ran a "Magic Shop." He'd seen that one coming a mile away.  
  
"Ok, wise guy," Dawn answered, about to make a confession. Suddenly she looked around her. The sun had dipped below the horizon. They had entered twilight. A shiver overcame her. It was the type of look he was used to seeing on the faces of Gothamites at sunset.  
  
"What're you afraid of," Tim questioned, coming closer to her. She was making a strained effort to control her breathing so he wouldn't see-but he noticed. "It's something-and it's real."  
  
She stopped pacing and shot an angry look at him. "Oh yeah right. You'll totally understand."  
  
Tim grabbed her arm, pulling her closer to him. "Shh," Tim ordered. "We're being watched."  
  
Dawn searched around her, seeing nothing. "Spike--"  
  
"It's him. And two other guys." He couldn't really call them guys, though. He just got this overwhelming sense that the rooftops above them had suddenly gotten very crowded. He scanned the skyline above them, trying to figure out what was going on. There was some muffled cursing, then a black mass came hurling off a ledge, down towards them.  
  
Instantly, Tim turned and used his back to shield Dawn, who let out a scream. He had no idea what was coming, but he wasn't going to let her get hurt. He knew she couldn't fend for herself, and beyond that-she was an innocent, and protecting the innocent was his job.  
  
"Come on, Lil' Bit." Spike's bony white hand clasped down on her arm, and he tried to pull her away from Tim. "We'll just be going now."  
  
Tim grabbed Spike's cold wrist and dug his thumb into the nerve, getting the man to release his grasp. He pushed Spike away, pushing Dawn towards the street. "She isn't going ANYWHERE with you," Tim announced. "What's going on?"  
  
Two more figures in trench coats jumped down behind them, just as they spilled out onto the streetlights and pedestrians. They continued their forward press through the now-thinning sidewalk population. "I think you should mind your own business, Pee-Wee." Spike thumbed a finger over his shoulder. "Those two guys back there-NOT people you want to mess with."  
  
Tim looked behind him. Through the dissipating crowed, the two dark-clad figures were barreling towards them at exceptional speed. "We can't outrun them," Tim pointed out, searching for refuge.  
  
"No need, munchkin," a female voice purred, suddenly in front of him. They all stopped dead in their tracks. "We're here." Tim spun around, looking at the blue and black velvet clad woman who wasn't much bigger than he was.  
  
"Amanda," Spike sniffed.  
  
"William."  
  
"Oh great," Dawn moaned, stomping her foot and rolling her eyes. The other two closed the distance and were on their backs almost immediately.  
  
"You were told you weren't welcome in this town," the woman said. Her long, ratty red tresses fluttered just a little in the night air until she tucked her hair behind her ears, then she stared critically at the two teenagers before her. "I'd heard you'd grown soft. But this is. disgusting."  
  
"Nobody asked you, Amanda. You and your buddies got a gripe with me-FINE. Let the appetizers go. They're skinny and they taste like Tang."  
  
"Consider it a. good will gesture. Handing them over, that is."  
  
"To whom? YOU?" Spike asked spitefully. "If you're in charge of this town, then this place has gone down the shitter a lot more than I thought. An infant." He snorted, then grabbed both teenagers' arms. "I'll choose to ignore that pathetic cry for help, and me and the gippers'll be on our way."  
  
Before he could push them clear of the obvious Goth convention surrounding them, the two large men behind them grabbed hold of Spike's shoulders, holding him in place.  
  
There was a dangerous half-smirk on the woman's black-lined lips. "Not me, William. Old friend of yours. Now, these two've been interfering with a special. lets say. PET project of hers that she's been babysitting. And she's not happy. But I bet she'd be willing to make amends. if you're good and give them over."  
  
"They're not involved, huh?" Tim asked Dawn skeptically.  
  
Dawn shrugged. "Would you believe I just have really. REALLY bad luck?" she asked hopefully.  
  
"Oh thank GOD," Spike announced loudly. He held his hands out at his sides and stared up at the night sky. "I thought YOU were in charge of this expedition. It does my cold, unbeating heart good to know that you're still a minion, Amanda. Because that's all you'll ever be."  
  
The woman's thin arms folded over her small, corseted bosom. "Better a follower, and on the winning team, than." her lips curled back. "Neutered."  
  
Spike reached between Dawn and Tim, lunging at the woman before her henchmen could respond. "You slimy little bitch." He knocked her to the ground in an obvious and messy display.  
  
The two men behind them pushed the kids out of the way, trying to pull him off of her. Without waiting to be told, Tim grabbed Dawn's wrist and pulled her towards the intersection. Checking to see which way the light was changing, he dashed across the street as quickly as possible. Scanning the street quickly, he pushed opened the nearest glass door and thrust her inside. His breath caught in his chest when he saw the expensive carpet, white table clothes and well-dressed diners. The concierge behind the podium looked about as amused as Alfred after one'd been trouncing in the sewers all night.  
  
Tim gave a hopeful smile. "Table for two?"  
  
Continued in Chapter 5 


	6. Chapter Five

Yes, yes, I'm so long in posting parts. I have LOTS of good excuses. It was Brendan's birfday, and then it was my birfday, and then. and then.  
  
Anywho.  
  
Disclaimers in part 1. As always, all types of FB welcome.  
  
Things You Don't Want To Know  
  
Chapter 5  
  
**  
  
Dawn pressed her lips together, thinking deeply about something. "We can't just leave Spike."  
  
Tim tried to hide his agitation. Like it or not, he was in charge now. And he didn't like it. He didn't like running with his tail between his legs- not when Robin would have had this situation resolved hours ago, and would have mopped the floor with those wanna-bees. Being Tim had serious drawbacks, some of the time. "Spike gave us an opening," he explained.  
  
"I don't care," Dawn complained, leaning across the small table towards Tim, her arms folded across her chest. "I don't want to eat stuff I can't pronounce. I want to help Spike."  
  
Swallowing, Tim tried to maintain his calm. "We need to be some place public right now. Some place we have a higher chance of being safe in," he explained logically. He'd ordered for both of them a minute ago, and she had been slightly annoyed that he understood the French on the menu. Now they were just sitting here, stagnating and thinking of all of the possible troubles they could be in. It wasn't how Tim wanted to handle the situation, but he was at a loss for what else to do.  
  
Suddenly, Dawn pushed her chair away from the table and rose. "Look, I can't just sit here, ok? Spike's evil and all, but he takes care of me. And he's the only one who came after me when I ran away. Scooby's stick together, even if he's not a real Scooby." She was about to step away from the table when Tim grabbed her arm. Letting out a gasp of shock, her eyes fell upon his rigid hand.  
  
Tim shook his head with Bat-like firmness. "Listen to me, it's probably not safe out there."  
  
"SO? So.. You don't know what it's like where I come from. I can handle it." She tried to shrug off his frighteningly strong grip, but was unable to. "Let me go. I mean-I don't know you. You just swoop in, and start telling me what to do? You don't know how it is. I know how it is. I'm going to help Spike."  
  
Tim's eyes locked with hers, and he hoped he was doing his best to make his point clear. She couldn't leave. "He attacked her on purpose. Whatever he's up against, he wasn't sure he could vouch for our safety, which tells me its rough." He let go of her arm."My. person is going to be here REAL soon. HE can sort this out." He loathed relying on Dick, but what choice did he have?  
  
Her nose flared as she collapsed into the high-backed chair, arms instantly locking across her chest. "So. we just sit here and wait? And eat? That's. that's."  
  
"What we're going to do for now," Tim informed her.  
  
"You suck," Dawn informed him bitterly.  
  
"Yeah, I know," her companion responded with maximum sarcasm.  
  
They sat in silence for a few moments, staring at the folded cloth napkins and shining silverware. He hated feeling helpless. He hated not knowing what to do. Slowly, his eyes crept from her fingers tapping against the table up to her face. She was staring around at the décor, seemingly fixated upon the flat-leafed tropical trees in the corner behind him.  
  
"So."she began, breaking the silence. "What's this friend of yours supposed to do when he gets here? How's he going to know to help Spike?"  
  
Tim let out a breath quickly, trying to hide his relief. "Well, I'll call him, and tell him what's going on. Then he'll help. But until then, getting ourselves killed is NOT gonna do anything productive for anyone. So. hold on, and I'll call." It wasn't much, but it was something . He pushed his chair back and rose.  
  
Complete and total annoyance spread across Dawn's face. He knew this wasn't the way she wanted this situation played out. "Wait, I saw your cell phone. Can't you call from here?" It was strange-she was such a timid thing, but she seemed so accustomed to trouble.  
  
Tim bit his lip. "It's. kind of a private conversation. Give me a sec." He rose, making his way to the small sitting area in front of the concierge's podium which was, unfortunately empty. Looking around one more time, he began dialing an all-too familiar number.  
  
It picked up after one ring. "Can you put me through to Dick," he asked without saying hello.  
  
"Am I just a glorified operator to you?" He didn't know if she was angry or irritated, but Oracle wanted his hide.  
  
"I need to talk to him. How far is he off my location?" He glanced down at his watch, checking the time.  
  
"Half an hour. It's rush hour, you know."  
  
"Never stops anyone in Gotham," Tim answered impatiently. Moving towards the glass windows of the restaurant, he looked out, trying to spot any possible signs of trouble.  
  
"This isn't Gotham. I've had to give him directions twice since he got into the city. What do you need?"  
  
Tim bit his lower lip, thinking. He wasn't sure if it would do any good to tell everything. In fact, he didn't even know what everything was. He felt compelled to handle this on his own, because somehow, they'd blow it out of proportion. Every time he thought about telling them, and opening up this case-he was reminded of the last time he'd had adult interference in his life, and what it had done to him.  
  
But he trusted Dick and Barbara.  
  
Well, he used to trust Batman, too.  
  
"Tim?"  
  
"I'm fine, Barbara. I was just looking for an ETA." He looked back at the table, and the agitation mixed with forlornment upon her face and came to a quick decision.  
  
"Can I help you, young man?" the stuck-up, designer haircut-sporting concierge asked.  
  
Tim pulled the phone away from his ear. "Actually. yeah," Tim answered, never taking his eyes from Dawn. Anything could happen in fifteen minutes. Another half hour. who knew.  
  
He withdrew the credit card from his wallet. "It has a thousand dollar limit, I'm just going to take a stab in the dark and guess that dinner wont cost that much. I have to. run out. This should take care of it if I'm not back soon." He also tossed his ID on the podium. It had a ten thousand dollar limit, but his father had taken the credit card away from him completely after No Man's Land. He was lucky to have anything at all, now.  
  
"Tim, what're you doing?"  
  
He forgot he was on the phone with her. "Ok, I need you to do something for me," he said as he dashed out the door, despite the concierge's protests that he had to stay and wait for authorization.  
  
He pushed through the revolving glass door and began a mad dash across the street without looking back. "Watch my credit card numbers. If they call the phone number listed on my license, snag the call before it gets to my dad and authorize the transaction."  
  
There was typing in the background. "What are you up to?"  
  
"Just paying for dinner, Babs," he promised.  
  
"Who says chivalry is dead. Even if you can't talk to HIM, you can still talk to us," she tried to assure him.  
  
"Babs, I don't have time," Tim explained. Just. give me a heads up before he's on top of me." Shutting off his phone, he shoved it into his back pocket and began to search the now empty street corner for clues as to where they'd taken this "Spike," at least feeling fortunate that there seemed to be no signs that Spike wasn't still among the living.  
  
He knelt and touched his hand to a speck of blood upon the pavement. It was black already, but he was sure it was new. Looking around him, he tried to find some other indications of what had transpired. Seeing the scuffmarks and black markings on the masonry wall above him, he took a fair guess at the direction they were at least moving in, and he began his hunt.  
  
As discretely as possible, he attempted to follow the tiny signs of larger struggle. This would be less of a chore in a dirtier city like Gotham. This city wasn't the cleanest, but it wasn't Gotham either, and he resisted the urge to let out a little curse.  
  
The corner of a sidewalk flowerbed showed obvious signs of having someone dragged through it, half a block away. He rushed up to that spot and crossed the street, anxiously awaiting some other sign to become apparent.  
  
This would probably have been easier if he were in the air, but it was a luxury he was sure he'd be doing without while in this city. Longingly, he stared up at the rooftops, and wondered if maybe Tim Drake didn't need a better view. He ducked down the alley closest to the trail going cold, and climbed on top of the closed lid of a dumpster, and was prepared to grab hold of the rickety fire escape above him, when he caught sight of something at the end of the alley-an opened dock door. There was the clacking of metal against cement somewhere inside, and he leapt off, and then took off running.  
  
There were three women and the two goons from earlier surrounding Spike, who was tied to a whitewashed i-beam at the far end of the shipping room. "Here's a hint, loves. Next time SHUT THE DAMNED DOOR!" Spike informed his captors. "And you. can't you buy a clue?"  
  
The redheaded Goth-girl backhanded Spike across the face. "You're always such a mouthy one."  
  
The two other women with her and the thugs advanced upon him. "You guys're using WAAAAY too much muscle on a little kid," he informed them. "I mean, really. I'm like. five foot nothing. You really don't think."  
  
Two of them lunged at him at once, and he back-flipped to put distance between them. Initially that hadn't been the plan, but he saw the sudden contorting of their faces, and the yellow feral glow of their eyes, and it had just happened. He knew what these guys were. Tim looked around desperately at the heavy-browed faces. "Frigging great," Tim muttered.  
  
Continued in Part 6 


	7. Chapter Six

Disclaimer in part one. Critical feedback welcome.  
  
This is for the folks who keep bugging me, because I AM a heal. I've had this part done for like ever and haven't posted it.  
  
Things You Don't Want To Know  
  
Chapter Six  
  
** Tim glanced around at his present company, wondering when Dick was going to show up to save him. Not save him, he reminded himself, because he was perfectly capable. Provide backup. That was it. backup.  
  
If he'd have had his uniform, his cape, he would have felt a little better about things. It always helped to have Robin's bag of tricks, but more importantly, the collar of his uniform was reinforced. He had a phobia of waking up as one of the Undead, and his foes' pointy teeth weren't doing much to ease that burden in his life.  
  
He ducked and dodged the two ladies, then swept his leg outward, knocking them down. It was nice to see that they were going with the leather Goth look instead of crushed velvet and the like, but it meant they were much readier for a fight.  
  
Getting to his feet quickly, he leapt into the air and dug each foot into a separate goon's big-browed faces. It hurt a lot more wearing sneakers than reinforced steel toe boots, but he'd make do.  
  
Where was Dick when you needed him? Where was that cell phone call, saying the cavalry was coming?  
  
* * *  
  
"You PEOPLE!" Amanda screamed. "You SUNNYDALE PEOPLE!" Her fingernails raked across Spike's face, nearly ripping all of his skin off.  
  
Spike jerked his head away, staring at the boy who was holding his own. "Don't take it out on me, Love. He's not one of ours."  
  
The boy managed to knock one of the larger brutes unconscious by ramming him into the cement block wall. The second was sent to sandman land when he sent a plastic covered crate careening down on top of the larger figure. Now the wiry spite of a thing was giving the other three a bit of chase. It was only slightly more entertaining than a Tuesday night in Sunnydale.  
  
"You'd better get to the part where I meet your brave and glorious leader, otherwise the kid's going to STAKE YOU ALL before she gets here." One could hope the boy could take a hint.  
  
"It's alright, darlings," a soft, melodic and slightly deranged voice rang out from the opened garage door at the end of the shipping room. " Mummy's here. And she found a new puppy."  
  
Spike spun his head around and groaned. "Why can't anyone take a bleeding HINT?"  
  
Tim stopped fighting and leapt to higher ground atop a stack of shrink- wrapped crated.  
  
"I uh. came to save you," Dawn offered hopefully. One of Drucilla's lithe arms was wrapped around her, holding her firmly in place, and her head was pressed to the side, exposing her neck.  
  
"I was trying to save YOU," Spike pointed out.  
  
Drucilla cocked her head, searching for something only she could see. "The birdy should come out of hiding. I see you up there, all perched pretty and such. If you don't, I'm going to poke holes in your little friend. You wouldn't like that very much , would you? You like her too well to let Mummy make another puppy."  
  
Tentatively, Tim jumped down from his hiding place. "I thought I told you to stay put."  
  
"Well, YOU didn't," Dawn pointed out quietly, not moving within Drucilla's grasp.  
  
Drucilla nodded, ignoring the group's angry banter. "Good birdy."  
  
"Birdy?" the young man questioned at the second mention of the word, something resembling dread clenching his brow.  
  
"Birdy. You like to fly, and you fly very well. And." Drucilla's head tilted back and forth for a moment. "I think you'd look very good in red."  
  
Something very painful ceased the boy's face, and he froze, even as Amanda's arm slowly came around his neck. "I can make it red. I can drip this one dry. He's been giving grief." The boy'd let himself be walked right into that one, Spike thought. Either he'd been royally distracted, or he had a plan. Spike didn't hold out much hope for the latter, so he began tugging on his bonds yet again, searching for the knot, in an attempt to begin untying it. Chains, people. Chains with padlocks. Get with the twenty- first century.  
  
"My little moppet might need a play thing," Drucilla explained. She went back to her business with Dawn, instantly forgetting her promise to the young man in front of her.  
  
"I. I don't want to be a vampire," Dawn explained desperately. "I mean. you better just kill me. Because I'm not going to be a vampire. I'm not going to drink your stupid blood or--" She stopped when Drucilla gently stroked her straight brown hair for just a moment, before wrapping her hand around the majority of the loose locks and tugging her head further down, exposing her neck even more.  
  
"Leave the lil' bit alone!" Spike protested, from nearly twenty yards away, giving a forceful tug on his bonds. "You don't need that one!"  
  
She licked Dawn's neck. The girl winced. "Spike's telling mummy what she needs and doesn't need? Spike shouldn't be telling anyone anything. Not when he's confused. In love with the Slayer confused."  
  
Spike rolled his head back and forth. "Dru."  
  
Drucilla's teeth plunged into Dawn's neck. The girl screamed loud and high pitched.  
  
Tim slammed his elbow into the ribs of the vampire holding him, then tossed her over his head. "Let go of her!" Prepared to leap for the woman attacking his friend, Tim stopped mid-motion when she lifted her lips from Dawn's neck.  
  
As suddenly as Drucillia's attack began, it ended. She cocked her head, listening. The vampire Tim had tossed got to her knees. "What is--"  
  
"SHHHH." She raised one finger, gesturing for everyone to obey her. "Sting's talking to me," she informed them all.  
  
Tim turned his attention to the outside, and a car radio blaring "Every Step You Take" over a block away. It seemed to be stopped at a light for a moment. He looked to Spike, who seemed painfully disgusted, then to Drucilla and Dawn. This affair had officially gone from Batman territory to Young Justice territory, with the recent turn of events.  
  
The car's engine revved once, then pulled away with flourish.  
  
"Sting's done now," she informed everyone. Her jaw opened wide, as if she were going to take another crack at still-petrified Dawn, but then she scowled at Tim. "Can't SOMEONE keep track of the little birdy? I don't ask for much," she crooned.  
  
Attempting to put distance between himself and Amanda, Tim slowly backed towards Spike.  
  
"Little birdies in their place, sometimes the blood of the innocent. And a man to buy me bobbles. You kind of LOOKED like Sting, you know. When I used to squint. Now it's more like." Drucilla sighed, realizing she was getting off the point.  
  
"I was going for the Billy Idol look, actually," Spike announced as he pulled his hands free of the bonds, then lunged for Amanda, pushing Tim out of the way.  
  
"Hey!" Tim cried out as he regained his footing just in time to dodge the other two ladies in Drucilla's pack.  
  
"Did you think I was going to wait all day?" Spike responded, wrapping his hand around a long tress of Amanda's hair, pulling her head back. With all of his power, he thrust her towards one of the shrink-wrapped crates, catching her chest on a haggard looking corner sticking out of the clear plastic.  
  
Amanda gasped, the air rushing out of her lungs quickly, but she remained largely whole. She spun her head around, eyes glowing feral yellow. "Not pointy enough," she informed him, punching a fist through the crate, ripping off a jagged hunk of wood, bits of plastic hanging off of it. "I never DID like you."  
  
Spike took a step back, but Amanda grabbed hold of his black t-shirt and spun him around. He leveled one good punch at her forehead, which connected, but did nothing more than irritate the smaller vampire. Brandishing the stake, she pushed him up against the jagged edge of the crate, preparing to impale him on both sides. He looked past her to the Dawn's little friend. "A little help here, buddy boy."  
  
Tim didn't move. He was staring at Drucilla, the bodies of unconscious vampires littered around him. They remained eye-locked, even as blood continued to drip slowly from Dawn's neck to her collar bone, then fall the great distance and splash to the ground.  
  
"Move one more inch," Drucilla informed him quietly, "and no more moppet," she said, nudging her chin at Dawn. If at all possible, the girl's already worried expression grew even more troubled.  
  
In the sudden dragging silence, they were all acutely aware of the metallic grinding of elevator cables as the freight elevator at the far end of the dock whined its way downward. The light on the inside of the car flooded the area with a warm amber glow as it slid carelessly downward. It clicked to a halt, and the Iron Gate pulled backwards, the figure inside taking one step forward, into the dim light of the dock room.  
  
A tall body in a well-cut mahogany suit spread his hands in a carefree gesture. "Guy! Guys," he said, looking at the two groups of precariously perched individuals, each on the verge of murder. "Can't we all just get along?" he asked with a grin.  
  
Dawn's jaw dropped. "Dad?"  
  
.Continued in Chapter 7 


	8. Chapter Seven

I know I'm an awful person. not putting out another part in like. forever. It's been a long, weird time in my life and I apologize.  
  
Disclaimers in prologue.  
  
Things You Don't Want To Know Chapter 7 **  
  
Despite the small blade pressing into the skin of his throat, Tim dared to swallow. "You know." he said, giving it his best stage whisper. "If someone wanted to like RESCUE us, now would a REAL good time." He gave a sidelong glance to the red-headed vampire who was pressing the tip of the letter- opener sized blade into the flesh beneath his chin. She concentrated hungrily as it pierced his outer layer and blood dripped casually down the dull metal.  
  
Drawing in a deep breath, he tried to ignore the pain of the slice, choosing instead to concentrate on the floors as they passed beyond the steel gate of the crowded freight elevator.  
  
"Amanda, don't drool," Hank Summers jovially told the creature. He looked down at his daughter, bemusement still dancing behind his gray eyes. "Dawn, tell your little friend, no one's coming to rescue him." He let out a slight chuckle. "Kids today. You always think someone's going to be there to catch you when you fall."  
  
"Dad. what're you talking about?" the girl asked desperately, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. "Is that why you didn't come when we called? Cause you think I have to stand on my own or something? Dad! You didn't even come to the funeral."  
  
"Something like that, munchkin," Hank Summers said patiently.  
  
"And why're you here with Drusilla? Don't you know she's evil? I mean, she IS a vampire."  
  
Amanda's head turned away from her work of licking the blood from the blade, as she continued to probe Tim's neck. It snapped to the side reflexively and her glowing amber eyes scolded their disapproval of the girl.  
  
"WHAT? You ARE evil," Dawn pointed out.  
  
Hank sighed and shook his head. "Evil is such a. relative term."  
  
"Then what're you DOING here?" the girl demanded. "Why're you with these." seeing the nasty look in the vampire's eyes, she reconsidered her words. "People. Dad," she moaned desperately. "Come home to Sunnydale. PLEASE. We need you. I need you."  
  
"I'm afraid that's no doing, kiddo." His arm tightened around the girl, knocking the air out of her lungs. "It's not part of 'the plan.'"  
  
Tim was already standing on his tip-toes, his head crushed against the mint- colored back wall of the elevator, but he stretched it still-upward, trying to find some relief for his tortured throat. "And just what is this. plan?" the young man questioned.  
  
Hank shrugged, mirth still playing in his eyes. "Damned if I know."  
  
* * *  
  
Drusilla's tongue probed the wounds on Spike's cheek. He was restrained again, this time with metal handcuffs. The center of said cuffs was hung over the metal hook of a winch, and he hung just enough off the floor that he couldn't touch it. "Remember all the fun we used to have with these. It's the same pair as we used to use in Nevada. Remember all the times we had there?" Her voice was just a gentle purr in his ear. One hand trailed up his chest, lingering over the holes in his battered black shirt.  
  
"What's going on, Drew," Spike asked, turning his head away from her slithering tongue.  
  
"I've got a new toy. It's a broken toy that's still in love with the Slayer, but it's still a handsome toy. I like it very well."  
  
"You know, those stupid Scoobies are going to come here for the Slayer's sister," Spike pointed out, continuing to dodge Drusilla's prodding tongue. The woman was deranged, and in the past, it had meant she was quite a bit of fun. But lately, it was more of an annoyance than anything else.  
  
Her head suddenly popped back and Drusilla glared at him. "You've got to think we're stupid. We've got plans for slayers and things."  
  
"For slayers?" Spike asked, revealing nothing.  
  
"Yes, for slayers and their stupid little friends. Though I have a feeling." her saucer-like eyes rolled just a bit, fixating on the metal sheeting that served as a ceiling. . "But that's not who's blood is going to be shed tonight."  
  
* * *  
  
Nightwing decided the best approach was the classic: through the roof. Carefully pulling back the cleaning hatch on the skylight, he slid down into the darkness. The second his feet hit the floor of what Oracle assured him was supply storage, he pulled the flashlight from his glove and flipped the switch.  
  
Four hundred glowing feral eyes glared back at him.  
  
TBC 


	9. Chapter Eight

Now we get to the part you really don't want to know ;)  
  
It's been so long since Season 5 Buffy, hopefully I'm not mashing my cannon. If I am, I apologize. However, I hope the story'll stand on it's own, despite any abuses of Cannon.  
  
Things You Don't Want To Know Chapter 8 **  
  
"It's my favorite floor!" Hank Summers announced, as they approached the fourth floor. "Four is such a wholesome number."  
  
"Dad," Dawn said, trying to reason with him again. "Why are you working with these people?"  
  
"Precious, daddy's working here," he announced as he began pulling open the metal gate of the freight elevator.  
  
"Can I eat him yet?" Amanda asked, hungrily starring at the dribbles running off of the knife at Tim's throat, and spilling worthlessly onto his jacket.  
  
Hank rolled his eyes, but gave a frighteningly cheerful smile. "You'll have your chance. There's enough blood for everybody, after all."  
  
Tim's feet kicked out, searching for the floor. This was the crappiest day he'd had in a good long while. And where the heck was his backup? There was only one thing Tim was certain of. Dick was in trouble, when he got hold of him.  
  
* * *  
  
Nightwing tried not to breathe in the dust created by destroying over a dozen vampires. He looked at the low ceiling, wishing there were some way out of the debris, soot and vampire both. There were still over a hundred and fifty of them left, and they were coming at him far too quickly. He'd been pushed away from the roof entrance he'd used over four minutes ago, and he had yet to regain lost ground. And he only had two flash pellets left.  
  
Diving through the crowed, he slid between two of vampire's legs, sending pencils shooting into their backs. With the initial attack, he'd thrown one through a crate of Number Two's, and it was doing the job rather nicely for him.  
  
Flipping upright, he kicked several of them back, trying to clear a path for himself. Just as the second one went careening into a crate of last season's outerwear, he felt something sharp pierce the Kevlar of his uniform, right at his thigh.  
  
He screamed, bringing his other foot down, trying to kick away the ratty little vampire that had attached herself to his artery. Her jaw was solidly planted, however, and the kick did little more than to compromise his own balance. It also provided the moment of hesitation in his onslaught against them, for them to swarm.  
  
He knew that this was going to hurt a hell of a lot worse than the time he'd kicked over the wasp nest on the back of Bruce's property.  
  
* * * They proceeded down an olive green hall way and passed aging locked offices, hidden behind frosted doors, towards an open door at the end of the hallway. It was a narrow fit, so Tim didn't dare try to free himself from Amanda. Dawn was in front of him, and he had no doubt she would get hurt in the crossfire.  
  
As it was, she was walking slower and slower, seeming to dread what was coming at the end of the ill-lit hallway. There was something nasty and foreboding about the amber lamp light flooding over into the hall from that office.  
  
* * *  
  
Drusilla folded her arms over her chest as she watched them hang the hunky piece of meat across from Spike. They were two plaid wearing inbreads with shabby greasy hair who were only recently among the deceased. She also didn't see much of a future in their future, so she decided to let them follow through with their stupid little plan of keeping the meat for later.  
  
"You're very stupid," she informed them. Besides their lack of style, and their lack of hygiene, and their lack of future, they'd bled him too much. "You can't drink it all at once, if you want more for later."  
  
One looked back at her with a lazy eye and a crooked nose warping his features. With his vampire brow furrowed, and his bulky back, he looked quite like Quasimodo. "Don' look at me. I had to rip him away from the babies."  
  
"It's your job to feed them, you incompetent little poppets. Maybe they'd be civilized if they were fed." She pointed to the loading bay door. "Go find them something to eat."  
  
They were barely better than animated corpses, those two were. She was sorry she had made them, watching them lumber out of the dock area. But they needed underlings.  
  
She walked over to the meat, inspecting it. "Another little birdy." She sighed, running a hand along his bare chest. Not only did he have over a dozen oozing flesh wounds all over him, but they'd clawed at his clothing and had torn large portions of it from him. The lenses in his mask were broken, but behind them, she could see his closed eyes, and pretty black eyelashes. "I'd keep you though. If I could wrest you away from the babies. They're so temperamental when you take away their toys. Drusilla bent her head towards his neck, inhaling deeply. She would definitely keep him, if she were allowed to pick her toys.  
  
Running her fingers along the muscles of his arm, she sighed with resignation. "But I have my own pet. Broken though she may be." With great care, she placed a tiny kiss upon the cheek of her nameless captive, pulling away slowly.  
  
She turned around and walked the three paces to Spike. He too was unconscious. The wounds on his face and arms were beginning to heal. With a smile of contentment, she ran her hands up his bare sides, relishing the taught skin that resided there. Her fingertips reached up to the sides of his arms, and she stopped. She paused there to gently probe a wound on his chest with her tongue.  
  
When he did not stir, she dug her fingernails into his flesh and pulled downward.  
  
He gave a roar of pain, and his head snapped up from his shoulder. What was the point in having a doll if not to play with it?  
  
With a purring smile of satisfaction she stepped away from him, licking her fingers. "I'm quite busy now, Spike," she informed him as he writhed in discomfort. Opening the freight elevator gate, she waved cheerfully. "I'll be eating you later, though." She stepped inside and the gate snapped shut behind her.  
  
Spike looked up again at his metal bonds. "That's just sick," he whispered to himself. "That's how I know she's gone round the bend," he told his unconscious companion. "She was already round the bend, mind you. But I mean FURTHER around the bend. Vampires eating other vampires? That's just sick." He sighed, realizing his companion was worthless for conversation. "Hopefully you'll die from blood loss, mate," he consoled. "I've kept enough folks around as Happy Meals to know that the madness and infection and torture and stuff are. well. not very nice."  
  
He glanced down at his bleeding sides. "What the hell am /I/ talking about? I'm gunna be a Happy Meal too."  
  
Of all rotten damned luck. Especially when Lil' Bit was counting on him.  
  
* * *  
  
"I have to make introductions, you see," Hank said, after they'd stopped just outside the office. "You weren't exactly. invited."  
  
"And above all," Amanda taunted, licking at Tim's neck; her touch burned like mad. "We're a members-only organization."  
  
Hank pushed Dawn towards Amanda, who caught her with the arm that was not wrapped around Tim's throat. She held Dawn in a headlock with this.  
  
"Daddy." Dawn begged. "Daddy, come on. It's not funny now. I'm scared."  
  
Hank gave a nonchalant shrug. "Well, I guess you should be. You ARE about to die and all." He then ducked into the office, leaving Dawn to let out a shriek of terror.  
  
Tim knew that things were desperate enough to chance it then. As the cry rang out from Dawn's lips, he rammed his elbow into Amanda's side, then grabbed her shoulder and tossed her over his back. He had his best chance at that moment, because she was dividing her hold between the two of them, and it paid off. As she went over top, she lost her hold on Dawn, and went slamming into the wall across from them. He slammed his foot into her chest, holding her in place, and wrenching the knife from her grasp.  
  
A second later, a petite blonde was lifting him into the air. Her face was warped and contorted, but she was staring up at him with angry yellow eyes. His feet dangled desperately off the floor.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" she asked with a slightly Virginian drawl.  
  
"DARLA!?" Dawn cried out. "Could this be WORSE?" In angry desperation, she grabbed the vampire's arm, attempting to get her to let go of Tim.  
  
With her other hand, Darla controlled the teenager. "HANK! Come control your child!"  
  
Dawn felt her father's hand wrap around her sweater a moment later, ripping her off of Darla's arm. "Does somebody need a time out?" He asked, turned her around to face him.  
  
She hoped it was a trick of lighting that made his brow crease and his eyes glow in just that special sort of way.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED  
  
see you in Chapter 9 kids ;) 


	10. Chapter Nine

Standard Disclaimers Apply. As always, constructive criticism welcomed. Sorry I'm such a jerk and haven't posted in... um... eons. But here's a nice post for Halloween ï (btw, I posted this everywhere else at Halloween, and forgot to post it here. My bad.)

Things You Don't Want To Know

Chapter 9

Spike couldn't feel his hands any more. Which was odd, because he didn't exactly have a circulatory system now days. Feeling his shoulders nearly popping out of the sockets, he let his feet drag a little more, hoping they'd catch enough ground to do him some good. His black boots scraped against the smooth cement floor uselessly.

A moment later, he felt something brush his leg. Staring down at the ill-lit figure at his feet, he couldn't believe that it was even a human shape, but it was. A female vampire, young and ill-kempt; when Dru said that she was making pets and poppets, she hadn't been kidding. He wondered if all of her "minions" were like this, child mixed with animal.

The wild-eyed vampire grabbed hold of his torso and pulled herself up, licking unsuccessfully at the clotting wounds on his side. His face twisted in revulsion. "Get away! Bother some one else."

Her dirty finger nails pressed against the smooth skin of his stomach, and he knew was she was about to do.

Twisting and writhing, he pushed her away. "STOP it. Dear God."

She didn't seem to appreciate the amount of hardship this toy caused, so she moved on Spike's companion. The masked man in the blue and black suit. Those costumed types one heard tell about. Instinctively, she stuck her fingers into an existing slash in his uniform, right behind his knee, and tore open the reinforced material at it's weakest point, then bit into his vein.

"Oh come on," Spike whined in protest. "He isn't even conscious to defend himself. That isn't even SPORTING"

But Spike knew just how long someone could live as a mostly-unconscious, barely-aware snack. He hoped to any higher beings that may be scanning undead brainwaves that he wouldn't be forced to sit around and watch.

"Daddy?" Dawn asked, somewhat in denial of her father's leering yellow eyes.

"Times change, Punkin," Hank explained in a thoroughly parental sort of way. "People change."

Tim slowly edged backward along the paint-chipped nausea-green wall, attempting to get a better tactical position. Young Justice dealt with monsters, things that went bump in the night. Everything he knew about them, he knew from his own research, and he knew that Spike was right—the Dawn really didn't want to find her dad. Or this thing that really wasn't her dad. That was going to make getting them out of this situation even more difficult. He scanned the dark hall quickly, looking for a weapon, and saw a water fountain at the far end, and a door wedge two offices down. Even if it wasn't wood, it'd be better than nothing.

"How COULD you?" Dawn asked Darla, a shocked hysteria peaking in her voice.

"Hank, explain it to her," Darla said very calmly as her new favorite lackee grabbed hold hold of Dawn's hair, wrapping his hand around it. He was being infinitely less nice about the whole thing than Dru had been.

"Well, Punkin, we have plans to kill the Slayer, and Darla thought you'd be a really great hostage, for some reason. But your friend is SUCH a pest."

Tim saw the light from his yellow eyes digging into the shadows of the hall and falling upon him. "Don't let ME stop you," he blurted out, just as he kicked the door stop into his hand like a hackey sack and lunged.

Hank tried to put Dawn between Tim and himself, but Tim saw it coming. He ducked and rolled, thrusting upward with his wooden door stop, into Hank's side. The vampire let out a growling howl, and pushed Dawn away from him, then slammed the back of his arm so hard into Tim that the you man hit the wall with a thud and a lurch as all the air vacated his lungs.

Just as Dawn hit the opposite wall of the narrow hallway and staggered, Amanda grabbed her again, pushing her forward and closing the distance between them and Darla. She grabbed Dawn's wrist and twisted it, hard.

Unable to catch his breath, Tim struggled to his feet. He saw the look of pain on Dawn's face as the blonde vampire twisted her arm behind her back. "If you want your friend to live, take the wood out of him, and step back."

Spike saw his companion begin to twitch and stir as one of the infants attempted to reopen one of his leg wounds. "Get away, now." Spike wasn't sure what good it'd do, but if nothing else, he didn't want to have to WATCH a guy being eaten.

The guy in the mask let out a groan and dragged his leg away from the vampire infant at his feet. The effort was pathetic to say the least.

"You give her what-for, mate." Spike nodded in approval. "Give 'er hell."

Tim wrapped his hand around the wedge lodged between Hank's ribs, but did not pull. "It does not matter if I do this," he said, still choking on the air. "We'll both be dead anyway. There're three of you, two of us. I can see it." There were also countless pairs of eyes in the darkness of the hallway in the end they had just vacated. Backup would be so completely good right now.

"Well, we have painful, and LESS painful," Darla pointed out, becoming testy.

Tim put his other hand to the bleeding pressure cut on his neck. "You have a problem here. Well, we all have a problem." He looked around at the group. Amanda, that red-headed skanky goth-pire was going to move on him in just a moment. "I don't think you told Hank all of his part in the plan."

Man, he was getting talky-like Dick. Which he supposed was good. Batman was the last person he ever wanted to end up like. "You told him you were going after 'the slayer.' You failed to mention that 'the slayer' was his own kid."

Hank looked at Darla, conflicted. He grabbed the wedge and pulled on it, the wood firmly stuck. "It—doesn't matter."

"And Hank—you need to check your phone messages." He just needed to buy enough time to think up an exit. "Buffy's dead."

"WHAT?" Darla screamed, pulling on Dawn's arm so hard she cried out. "I will NOT have my plans ruined by some LOSER like Spike!"

Amanda went for Tim as expected. He levered himself with a foot on Hank's chest, yanked out doorstop, and met Amanda's chest with momentum matching her own. She was a spray of brimstone-smelling dust in an instant.

At the same time, Dawn kicked Darla in the shin, doing her best to get away. "She died saving the world!" Dawn protested.

Before Tim could come to her aid, the numberless bodies in the dark of the hall took shape as they came towards him, obvious infants irrational with hunger.

As he attempted to kick and hopefully domino drop the first wave, Hank's arm came around his neck, crushing it and making him see black from force alone.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Standard disclaimers apply. This one's for Jesse, who pestered hardcore. And James. Who also pestered hardcore. Sorry for being so long between chapters. Stupid school and stupid life… Anyways, you can all sleep better at night—it's finally FINISHED.

Chapter 10

Things You Don't Want To Know

ZYX

"Dinner," as Spike was beginning to think of his companion, let out a moan. A shudder overtook the little meat puppet and his head lulled to one side.

Spike looked up at his own shackled wrists. They were more screwed than he could remember being in recent memory. The part that really pissed him off was that he'd promised he'd look after Dawn and now he was the one who needed help. If something really spectacular didn't happen really quickly, Lil' Bit would be nothing more than a memory and a snack. And the other weird kid too. "Hey, pal, Stay with. I think your little buddy's counting on you for a rescue. Or something."

The masked man gave another grunt. "That's . . . what I'm trying to . . ." The head swung down again.

So complete and utterly doomed, Spike thought.

Then was really screwed-up thin happened. "Dinner" showed off just how hard he worked at the gym—curling up like a snail hit with salt, his ankles wrapped around the chain that the hook was hanging from. Getting a firm footing, he pulled up with his legs, untangling the bonds at his wrist from the winch hook. A moment later, he dropped to the ground and lost his balance, spilling onto his side ingloriously.

Spike figured he'd spot the guy a few points on the landing, he was suffering from massive blood loss, after all. As for the rest… "Good show. But you'll pardon me if I don't applaud—I sort of have my hands full."

The bloke actually frowned at Spike, holding his side as he got to his feet. Worse for the wear, the masked man ambled past Spike.

"Hey," Spike grumbled. "You aren't just going to leave me here, are you?"

The man almost kept going, but he hesitated. 'You're one of them," he stated quietly.

"I am. But I promised Dawn's sister that I'd look out for her. So for the moment, we're on the same side." It seemed pointless to go into the details of the situation.

Saying nothing further, the pajama man looked around, limping to the nearest wall. The guy had determination; Spike'd give him that. Even if the end result was Spike's complete and utter screwedness.

The guy released a lever just out site and Spike dropped to the floor like a sandbag. Stunned, Spike was a bit slow getting to his feet.

Instead of heading for the stairs, the guy got to the empty freight elevator shaft and turned to Spike. "You comin' or what?"

Spike rolled onto his side, scrambling to his feet. "Look at you, giving orders already." Maybe the guy hit his head or something. "You're ringing for a lift? They'll see us coming a mile away."

Regaining a small bit of composure, the pajama man grinned. He took something out of his boot and shot a line up into the shaft. "I plan on taking the express."

XYZ

Tim couldn't gasp. He couldn't exhale. Nothing. He didn't have much time until he passed out. After that, they'd either be waking up undead—or not at all.

He gave one final kick at Hank's shins, but Dawn's dad didn't budge. Thoughts grew hazy and he knew this was it. Maybe he should have called Young Justice. Or made contact directly with Dick. Or called Bruce…

An explosion made the walls tremble and Hank let go of him just enough that he could slither free in the confusion. Dawn screamed. At the far end of the dark hall knocked out the rear forces of the vampire horde. Unable to even draw in breath, it was all he could do to grab Dawn's free wrist and tear her away from the blonde vampire.

Two other infants, ugly, filthy things that were just shy of 'zombie' grabbed onto her shirt though. Sucking in as much air as he could, Tim pulled her and kicked them away at the same time. In his effort to push her further away from the smoke, and the glowing eyes, he ended up knocking her to the floor.

She seemed to have her wits about her, though and scrambled past Hank's legs and towards the office.

The familiar sounds of battle ensued. Trying to hold back as many of the vampires at once, he searched the smoke-filled hallway for his doorstop. It wasn't easy, he still wasn't at his best. He tried to just get with it. They had no choice now, but to fight their way out of this hallway. Nightwing had at least presented them with a fighting chance.

Staking the nearest two, he held his breath as they turned to dust. Before he even had the stake out of the second one, another was lunging for his throat and nearly made it. What he wouldn't give for his belt full of tricks right now.

There were two more quick explosions and the air filled with ash and more smoke. "CLEAR!" Nightwing yelled, tossing another grenade over the top of the bulk of vampires, and it landed about ten feet from him.

Ducking into an office doorway, he covered his head with his arms as the blast cleared out the vampires closest to him and knocked Hank backwards and unconscious. He almost fell over Dawn, but she was out of immediate (well, eminent) danger. The whole thing at least gave him enough room to maneuver. Just as he cleared out of the doorway, he saw the blonde and the crazy one making their way, untouched through the scuffle, towards a door close to the freight elevator. "Don't let them get away!" They had their hands in something big, and if they got away, they'd just spring up somewhere else with some other brilliant idea. They were like Gotham's standard fare of bad guys like that.

The freaky Billy Idol wanna-be vampire made after the two of them, wherever that doorway lead. He could finally see Nightwing as the smoke cleared. His friend didn't look so hot. He looked exhausted, in fact—his swings were more like lobs, and he certainly wasn't operating at his highest efficiency rating. There were still about fifteen more vampires that hadn't been taken care of by explosions. Dick was probably out of ammo, hence the wide, arching lobs with a pointy stick that were going on now.

Trying to give his friend some relief, Tim dove in towards the center of the remainder of the pack. They were hungry and lacked any sort of control, which made them dangerous. Their lack of control gave Tim an advantage.

He bowled into two of them, knocking them to the ground and removing them as an immediate threat then lunged for his next target. As momentum carried him forward, he hit the next one square in the chest, then landed on the ground and rolled, right through the dust that had formerly been said vampire. Turning around, he got the other two just as they were getting to their feet, moaning like hungry zombies. He supposed you didn't have to be a genius to be a minion. And those women vampires probably preferred it that way.

It took another four minutes, by Tim's estimate, before he and Nightwing met in the middle. "Nothing like cutting it down to the wire."

"Quit being a spaz, then," Nightwing said, gasping for breath. Finally he gave up and leaned against the wall. "Run away some place closer next time."

Tim rubbed the cut on his neck, brushing away crusted blood. He happened to be in a hell of a lot better shape than Dick at the moment, and he still felt pretty bad. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Got swarmed." The bite marks were turning purple already. They were also oozing and gross. "Didn't have those handy explosives at the time. Would have been nice."

Tim didn't even want to know. Because that meant that Spike guy had brought them to the party, or all of those boxes down stairs weren't filled with pencils. If that were the case, this was sure an interesting department store they were running. "Do you think Spike can get them? I think I'd better Dawn out of here before--" he was going to say before her father woke up, but turning around, he saw neither at the end of the hallway.

"I'll be back," Tim promised, then dashed for the open doorway of the main office. He never really worried about Dick. Dick could always take care of himself, and usually Tim at the same time, all the while watching Bruce's back, even though Bruce never really deserved it. But right now, he was worried about Dick. He really needed to find Dawn, then get back there and make sure Dick was OK.

The office was empty. There were two doors on the back wall, past the desk and stiff, older chairs. The first one he yanked opened was a private bathroom. It was dark and appeared untouched. The second door was an iron stairwell, like a fire escape, only it was on the inside of the building. It wound down through a cinder block-lined stairwell.

He hopped over the railing of each half-flight, leaping down to the next. Sneakers were not designed for this particular type of abuse, and his feet stung by the time he had gone down eight flights, landing in another dark hall that seemed to run between the store-proper and the loading dock.

Making his way back to the dock, he saw Hank dragging his daughter near the door.

Dawn saw him, then cried out, reaching a hand out for help. Hank stopped and spun around. "Lordy, lordy. You kids today. You just don't stop."

Tim rushed him, flipped then hit him square in the chest. Hank must have been a vampire longer than anyone could suspect—he didn't flinch or give an inch when Tim hit him.

Tim, however, was not unnaturally strong, and when he hit the vampire, it was like hitting a brick wall. He landed on the cement, knocking the air out of his lungs. His ankles hurt like a you-know-what, as well.

In a flash, Hank's foot was on his throat. "You kids never listen. You always insist on learning things the hard way," he declared, never losing that freakish happy tone in his voice.

Talk about a bad freaking day.

"Buffy?" Dawn called out suddenly.

Hank paused before going through the act of crushing Tim's windpipe and looked at Dawn. "Oh honey, do you think daddy is stupid? He's not going to fall—wooooh…"

He didn't fall at all. He was lifted from the ground (and Tim's throat) by some figure from behind. The wound started bleeding again. Getting to his knees, he saw some slight, blonde girl turning stiffly, then setting Hank down on the ground, never letting go of his shirt. "Dawn is my sister, she said with a strange evenness. "I will not let anything happen to Dawn."

Dawn's eyes welled with tears suddenly. "Buffy? Oh my god…"

Buffy looked at Dawn, her head turning stiffly. "Do not worry. I will not let anything happen to you."

"Buffy, punkin, dearest… I wouldn't do anything to your sister…" Hank tried to twist out of her grasp, but it was like a vice.

Her head tilted mechanically to one side. "You are a vampire. Vampires get vanquished."

XYZ

Nightwing went through the door that the vampire, Spike, and the two female vampires had disappeared into. It was a flight of utility stairs that lead upward. With a sigh of resignation, he schlepped his way to the top. This had to be the single crappiest rescue he'd ever engaged in.

On the rooftop, he saw Spike standing on the precipice, looking over the side. "They actually jumped," the vampire announced, not bothering to look behind him.

Nightwing made it over to the ledge and looked down. There was not so much as a spatter on the pavement below.

"They managed to dust themselves off, pop their necks back into place and trundled off into some waiting car. We won't be catching up with them." Spike turned to Nightwing, a new giant gash along his cheek. "Thanks for believing me enough to cut me down from there. Dawn ok?"

Nightwing leaned heavily against the ledge. He really did need to crash and burn soon. "Tim went after her. If they aren't here, they must have gone down."

There was some weird twinge of… something or other in Spike as he crossed the rooftop to the access stairs, leaving the wounded, but not quite fallen, behind. The kid had serious skills, but he wasn't going to rest easy until he could see, first hand, that Dawn was OK.

XYZ

In a panic Dawn grabbed her sister's arm, trying to dislodge her hand from Hank's shirt. "Buffy, no, it's dad. There has to be--"

Before she could even finish, Buffy had slammed the stake into him with lightening speed. The breath caught in Dawn's throat as her eyes met her father's for that brief second before he burst into burning ash and was reduced to dust.

She couldn't even look at her sister. All Dawn could do was stare at the pile of dust on the floor. "Buffy? Buffy--" There was so much confusion in the way she said her sister's name.

She didn't understand where her sister had come from, or what had just happened. That had been her father, after all. At least, that's what Tim read in her eyes as she stood there, unable to take in what had happened.

Finally, Tim pulled Dawn away from her sister. "Dawn, he wasn't a human any more. Even I know that." Creepy Creatures That Go Bump in the night, 101. See, his time with Young Justice was good for something after all. "She vanquished the demon, and he can rest in peace now." Completely beyond hollow comfort, Tim though. But what else was there to say?

"Buffy?" There was disbelief in Spike's voice.

Dawn stared at her sister in disbelief. "She-she staked dad."

Buffy turned her head to look at Dawn, eyes wide and sporting a blank expression. "You are Dawn, Buffy's sister. It is my programming to protect you. I did this by performing my second priority duty of killing vampires. Have I performed in error?"

Backing up, Dawn tried to get as far away as possible. Tim slid between Dawn and this… he didn't know what. "The Buffy-bot?" She looked to Spike. "You didn't know about this?"

Spike shook his head no. "Maybe they had good intentions--"

The android replacement thing wasn't news to Tim either. Superman did need days off now and again. Behind him, the freight elevator came to rest with a creaking moan on the bottom floor. Through the grill, he could see Nightwing leaning against the wall. Tim was grateful—it was one less thing for him to panic about.

Turning back to Dawn and the android, he saw someone standing in the threshold of the utility exit next to the closed garage door. Tim couldn't make out any features because of the street lamp just outside the building.

"Dawnie, we wanted to tell you, but you just took off too fast," a feminine voice announced. She stepped into the ill-lit warehouse; a red-headed girl that reminded him of a younger, funner version of Oracle. She had that kind of bookish look about her.

Tears welled up in Dawn's eyes. By the time she actually started sobbing, the woman had crossed the floor of the loading area and had her arms around Dawn. "Willow… I came here to find dad, but he was… I just wanted to find him. I just wanted to know why he didn't want me. He's… he was…" She looked down at the pile of ash at their feet.

The woman—Willow—stroked Dawn's dirty, tangled hair. "Shh. I know. I'm sorry." She seemed to be just as at a loss for words as Tim was. He bet that Dawn wished now that she hadn't wanted to know so badly why her father hadn't come to her sister's funeral. There're just some pieces of knowledge that one can do without—things you can't un-know. He was sorry this had to be another thing she could have lived without.

The android's head began twitching violently. "Explain—explain. Why can I not perform primary task one and two at the same time? Explain. Explain…" she seemed to short-circuit after that, and her eyes grew dim.

Willow sighed. "We'll have to keep working on it. Come on. Lets get you home." She nudged Spike. "Can you grab Buffy-bot?"

Spike gestured to his sliced cheek and smattering of bruises and oozing punctures and cuts.

"Well, I can't carry it."

Resigned, Spike bent his knees and grunted as he lifted the hunk of metal and circuits and motors off the ground.

Tim had to admit, it was impressive. He could also guess that it was somewhat necessary, too. He remembered the flying, flaming disaster that had been Jean Paul taking over for Bruce in the Batsuit after Bruce's injury. This didn't have to be that bad. "I have a friend that might be able to help you with the logic routines and the AI interface. Dawn has my email address."

Tim rubbed her shoulder, looking back at the elevator. "You're safe now, and you're with friends." He looked up at Spike with the last. Who'd have guessed that in some circles, stalking as a sign of affection? "I think I have to get my friend out of here. He had an even worse night than we have." Squeezing her arm, he took a step back. "See you online, ok?"

Spike walked to the door with the frozen bot under his arm like a cardboard cutout. "Thank the Pajama Man for me," he called back to Tim.

"I will. You guys… keep doing what you're doing." The saving the world thing was tough; Tim knew that one from first-hand experience.

In the elevator he knelt next to Nightwing, who was sitting up against the back of the wire cage. "You ok, buddy?"

That got a bit of a reaction. Dick looked at him funny. Usually that's what Dick was asking him after one of these outings. "Yeah. A little AB- and an eleventy-billion year nap, and everything'll be fine. Your friend?"

Tim closed the gate on the elevator. Looking back, he saw her walking out the door behind Spike, her friend's arms still wrapped around her. He pressed the button for the top floor, which was the best place for a pick-up, really. "She's ok. Well, she'll be ok. She did just watch an android look-alike of her dead sister stake the vampire formerly known as her father and turn him into dust. I can't imagine that she'll just bounce right back."

Dick shook his head. "I see your Sarcasm wasn't broken in the explosion. Timmy… you really do know how to pick the weird ones."

Tim joined his friend in leaning against the fencing. "Dick . . . do me a favor and call Bruce. Then do me another favor and shut up."

THE END.


End file.
